The Day After Tomorrow
by Cyra Vasquez-Euringer
Summary: After El Manana, we thought she was dead... Or was she? Rated M for language and slight angst.NOTE: I did not write the song. Gorillaz do not belong to me either.


**THE DAY AFTER TOMORROW**

A cold spring breeze blew around the studio. And I just sat there, looking out past the Happy Landfill, and onto the horizon. I felt a drop on my hand. God damn rain sodden Essex. I pulled my knees up to my chest. Maybe the rain was good - it would hide my tears, and if the Windmill still burned, it might kill the fire. But how would that help? My friend was gone. Noodle was dead. I shook. First Mummy and Daddy, then Strudel (my dog who was like a canine sister), then my brother, now NuDoru? Then it'll be 2D, because now Murdoc's gonna be too pissed to watch him even breathe and will probably kill him in a rage. Then Russel will go back to New York. Murdoc will probably die from lung cancer. Then Isuzu might want to go off to college or something...  
For shit's sake, Cyra Niccals, stop with the self pity! Enough of this emo crap!

Ugh, there I go, yelling at myself again, I thought. I remember Murdoc saying that it was this kind of crap that turned him black. And by that I don't mean skin colour, I mean soul. But I choose the other road.

What would Noodle have done in this situation? My thoughts rotated around the Japanese teen like moons around a planet. Dead. That's what she was now. But one little person in the back of the crowd kept yelling, "She isn't! Go and find her!" What did I think of that? I told that one to shut the fuck up. Too many thoughts, now a migraine. I went inside. Murdoc was sitting on an aerobed in the living room. He didn't move, except his shoulders and chest from breathing. His eyes were fixed on the void, puffier than usual. He was crying. I went up to my room to change out of my rained-on clothes and into black jeans and my sweater that looked like Murdoc's. I went downstairs and cuddled up to the bassist. He stroked my hair. He must have showered - he smelled like cologne. Maybe Noodle's passing had a bigger effect on him than I thought. But hell, what did it matter? I felt like my heart was closed in a heavy metal box, weighed down by lead balls. It seemed incredible that at 21, I was stil going to my godfather whenever I was upset. But I grew up in a lie, and Murdoc was the closest to Daddy I would ever get, and he did once and awhile refer to me as his daughter. Noodle too. Murdoc kissed the top of my head and held me closer. I recall asking him why people were so cruel. And I also remember how the myriad tears fell from his eyes, wetting his shirt and the top of my head. I don't remember him ever being this sad. I never knew how soft this devil-man was before. I felt like a little kid, trapped in a hall of my own sorrows and fears. I reckon Murdoc felt the same. Life can seem so cruel, so surreal. It was the first time in a long time that I could've called myself 'cry baby', for we Niccalses are known for our outstanding maturity when it comes to the real world. Pah. And that little person still wouldn't shut up.

Later that day, I rang my friend John Whittaker. He wondered how we knew Noodle was dead. See, Murdoc had these kind of black-box video cameras all over the Island to assure her safety (some good they did.) The videos were sent via satellite to a monitor in the surveilliance room. Apparently, someone had broken into Kong that night, copied the footage and edited it to their fancy, turning it into a music video and sending it out to websites and TV stations to make loot off our dead guitarist. And not to mention, they trashed her room. They were the two men we all hated- Damon and Jamie. Always stealing our money, and our credit, the thieving bastards. How they got past that monstrosity of a wolf, Gmork, who Murdoc called his pet, is still beyond my knowledge. Either way, talking to John didn't help. I hung up.

One camera still lay with Noodle and the Windmill. Murdoc and I decided to bring her body back to Kong. We got to the crash site, and I began moving debris away. I uncovered Noodle's hand adn took it in mine... It felt warm. I thought I was imagining things. So I checked her wrist... a tiny throb, a pulse! She was alive! I screamed for Murdoc. We we finally pulled her out of the rubble... Do you remember how cute and somewhat beautiful she used to look? Now picture that, blood-stained, caked with dirt, with an expression so scared, it wasn't to be imagined. I burst into tears. Murdoc took her tiny broken body in his arms and took her back to the pickup truck. There was blood everywhere. Her soft purple hair, now clumped with dirt and matted with blood. She was burned and cut everywhere. I stayed in the bed of the truck with my little cousin. She opened her eye slightly. "C-Cyra?" she said. Her once happy green eyes now reflected the pain and fear she felt. "Hold on, Noodle," I whispered. I remember how happy it used to make her when she was little and I would sing to her.

"_Spend all your time waiting __  
__For that second chance __  
__For a break that would make it okay __  
__There's always one reason __  
__To feel not good enough __  
__And it's hard at the end of the day __  
__I need some distraction __  
__Oh beautiful release __  
__Memory seeps from my veins __  
__Let me be empty __  
__And weightless and maybe __  
__I'll find some peace tonight _

_In the arms of an angel __  
__Fly away from here __  
__From this dark cold hotel room __  
__And the endlessness that you fear __  
__You are pulled from the wreckage __  
__Of your silent reverie __  
__You're in the arms of the angel __  
__May you find some comfort there _

_So tired of the straight line __  
__And everywhere you turn __  
__There's vultures and thieves at your back __  
__And the storm keeps on twisting __  
__You keep on building the lie __  
__That you make up for all that you lack __  
__It don't make no difference __  
__Escaping one last time __  
__It's easier to believe in this sweet madness oh __  
__This glorious sadness that brings me to my knees _

_In the arms of an angel __  
__Fly away from here __  
__From this dark cold hotel room __  
__And the endlessness that you fear __  
__You are pulled from the wreckage __  
__Of your silent reverie __  
__You're in the arms of the angel __  
__May you find some comfort there._"  
She had fallen asleep. "You're in the arms of an Angel. May you find... some comfort... here..." I began to cry hysterically. My chest ached. The truck stopped. We were home. Murdoc took Noodle inside.

Noodle slowly began to heal. 2D, Russel, and Murdoc... I'd never seen them act like they were all best of friends before. I guess you were right, Trugoy. Noodle IS the glue that holds us together.

Since Noodle's accident, we've successfully sued the pilots of the RAH-66 choppers. I've been helping Noodle regain her strength. She's really healthy. Of course, there's always a bit of a jump when she trips or something. And in our hearts will remain that day - the day we came together as a true family, the day when I learned that the person in the back of the crowd was right and needed to be acknowledged, the day that Noodle was saved -  
The day after Tomorrow.

The End.


End file.
